


The Heat of Direwolves

by vivilove



Series: Beddings at Winterfell [6]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Dreams, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Jon, F/M, Healing Sex, Homecoming, PTSD Jon, Parenthood, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-29
Updated: 2017-01-29
Packaged: 2018-09-20 14:15:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9495098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vivilove/pseuds/vivilove
Summary: Picking up after 'The Lust of Dragons.'  Sansa comforts Jon after he has returned from the war suffering from doubt, guilt and battle stress.  She later leads him to the godswood to fulfill a request.





	

He gazed down upon their sleeping babe with such tenderness, his face a reflection of his good and loving heart. Sansa thought her husband the handsomest of men but he was never so handsome in her eyes as when she saw the adoring way he looked at their children… _our own little pack_.

Once this castle had been filled with love and laughter before Bran had fallen and the pack had been separated, before the War of the Five Kings had begun with King Robert’s death and her father’s arrest. _But not always_ , she thought, allowing truth to speak. Jon had not been treated to love and laughter all the time. He had never known a mother’s love in these walls as his own children did. His half-siblings had loved him but he had always been aware of his status as a bastard and often been treated by others…including herself…as something less than they were. Even their father who was his uncle in truth had kept some distance between himself and his bastard son.

_The truth would’ve endangered Jon and us all but what might have been different if we had known he was our cousin all along…if Mother had known that Father was never untrue to her._

He pulled her from her musings with his next words.

“Were you in great pain this time?” he asked somberly, his eyes still focused on their daughter.

“No,” she lied…and told the truth as well. _The pain was there and it was great but she was easier to bare than Ned_. “Little Arya is not so difficult as her aunt,” she jested.

“I wish I’d been here. I wished I’d seen Arya before she left again.”

“I was surprised when she arrived here. I thought for certain she would stay by your side till the fighting was done.”

“No, she knew how I worried over you and she worried over you as well as your time drew near. Did she say when she might return?”

“No, my love. You know how she is now. She keeps her secrets and her silences about somethings…as we all do. And you said there was a man in her life as well.”

“Aye.” He reached down and stroked their daughter’s cheek. “Her skin is softer than any fabric I can name.”

“It is but that does not mean she is weak.”

“No, she will be fierce as well as gentle…like her mother,” he said, raising his eyes to hers at last.

“Like her father, too, then.”

He looked uneasy at her words. “I’m not,” he said, the guilt plain in his voice. “I’m not…I have killed so many, I have done so many things that I never thought I’d do…and what I did earlier to you.”

“You made love to me.”

“I was…”

“Loving me… _fiercely_ ,” she said with a grin. “Stop this now, Jon. We’ve all done things we regret but you should never regret loving me.”

“My sweet girl, you are far too good for me.”

“Not at all and we are not having this argument tonight. Come, she sleeps. Let us go and see your son, my king.”

They passed back through to their chambers and Sansa grabbed a candle to carry with them. They passed the guard in the hall at his post who bowed his head to them both. They soon found Ghost upon their heels, nosing Jon’s hand with his snout.

“Have you decided I’m alright then?” Jon asked his direwolf. “I missed you, boy,” he said as he scratched the great wolf’s head.

They reached Ned’s room which had once been his Uncle Rickon’s when he was a little boy. Sansa went in first and found their son sleeping soundly. It was still quite early in the night, several hours until the castle would fully wake. Sansa placed the candle near the bed and smiled down on their son.

“We celebrated his second name day not long before his sister was born, you know. He said he wanted a little brother for his present. He was so adorably cross when he found out the babe was a girl,” Sansa laughed softly to herself. “He said he would never forgive me. He is quite in love with her now and is constantly following me around and telling me that I need to check on her when I am not with her.”

She looked up, expecting to see Jon at her side but he was not there. He still stood in the doorway looking anxious and uncertain.

“Jon?”

“I…I can’t…” he choked out with obvious emotion.

“Can’t what? Come here, my love. Come and see your son.” He walked slowly forward with his head down and his eyes on the floor. “Jon…whatever is the matter?” He looked up then and Sansa saw that his eyes were full of tears. “Jon? What is it?”

“I’ve missed so much. He’s grown so much. I can’t believe how…” his voice trailed off then and Sansa wrapped her arms around her husband.

“You’ve missed so much…but you’ve done so much, too. I want to hear about everything you saw and did while you were away…though I know much of it is probably horrid.”

“I can’t…I can’t speak of such things to you. You shouldn’t have to ever hear such things. I don’t deserve…this isn’t my place,” he choked on his words and the tears started to fall.

“It is. Why do you doubt it? Is it my mother’s cruel words that haunt you still? The taunts of others that do not matter to us now? Is it the dreams you told me of? The ones from the crypts?”

He did not respond. The tears rolled down his face as he looked at his son. Sansa always thought Little Ned looked most like the babe he had been when he slept but tonight she saw what her husband saw. He was just a little boy but he had been younger, smaller when his father had left. He had grown much over the last year…and he looked very much like his father must have at his age.

Sansa pulled Jon up against her and held him tighter and let him cry. His lust from earlier when he had first returned had subsided. She suspected that the emotions coming out now, coming out of this man that was often so stoic, were just another form of recovery from battle, from the war he had fought…perhaps from all the battles he had fought in all the time that had passed since he had been a boy at Winterfell.

She led him back to their chambers by the hand once his tears had dried and he had smiled at their sleeping boy before they left his room.

“Lay down, my love. The godswood will wait an hour or two. Lie with me and rest for a bit. When you wake, I’ll be next to you and then we shall go there if you like.”

He nodded and Sansa helped him undress, like a child being put to bed. He did not fight. He laid down and she crawled up next to him.

“You’re so warm,” he said.

“So are you.”

Sansa drifted off to sleep and dreamed. Her dreams were filled with disturbing images. Some were dreams of the past, things she often wished she could forget forever… _Ramsey,_ _Joffrey, Petyr, Cersei_ …so many cruel and vicious memories. But then the dreams changed to things she had never seen but she saw vividly now… _wights…dead men, women and_ _children as walking corpses, dead horses walking along with riders who seemed to be made of ice…the fires burning and screams, the shrieks of dragons and the charred_ _corpses_. She smelled it in her dream, burning flesh. She felt the cold that seeped into her very marrow and saw the Night’s King.

He bolted up in bed next to her, panting in fear and clutching his chest. Sansa rose beside him, trying to quiet her own heart as she reached for him. He shoved at her hands and began moving away from her in fear, as though he imagined she would harm him.

“Jon…it’s me. It’s only me,” she said, gently reaching for him.

“Sansa…I…forgive me. It was a dream,” he said raggedly.

“Yes, my love, only a dream. It cannot harm us now,” she agreed. “Sleep, love.”

He held her close and she did not comment about the fact that he trembled. _Sweeter dreams…give him sweeter dreams_ , she thought.

 

* * *

 

 

Jon drifted off and dreamed. He dreamed of children running and shouting and laughing in a field…three boys and two girls. They ranged in age from a dark-haired youth to a babe still in swaddling clothes. The older girl, no more than 10 with red hair like silk and laughing blue eyes, held the babe. And all about them, nipping at their heels were direwolf pups frolicking in the summer grass. Black and grey, tan and white, they were. Their parents stood watch nearby, the male solid white, the female a greyish brown. A pack… _our pack_. The male… _Ghost_ …looked over at him where he stood at a distance. He felt her warm hand in his own.

_‘Another, my love. Our pack needs one more,’ she whispered in his ear. ‘Let me give you one more son.’_

He turned to look at her and saw her smile before the dream had faded.

He woke with Sansa at his side. Her face so soft and free of worry as she slept. His heart lurched at the sight of her and filled with joy. He was home, he was safe, he was by her side once more. He was a father. He was a husband. He was a king…whether he wanted that or not.

He stroked her shoulder and leaned over to kiss her cheek. She gave a moan and a sigh and Jon felt a stirring in his loins at the sound.

“Sansa,” he whispered. “Would you feel like waking now?”

“Yes,” she said as she opened her eyes. They were dark as sapphires now… _dark with desire_. “Another, my love,” she said. “Let us make another babe this night.”

“And if we don’t?”

“We will keep practicing every night until we manage it then,” she said with an arched brow and the wicked little grin he loved so dearly.

“The godswood,” he said and she smiled and nodded.

They rose and dressed in silence. The hour of the Wolf was near, the darkest hour just before the dawn. The castle would sleep for another hour at least and the godswood should be silent at this time.

They bundled up to face the cold but Jon found that he did not mind the bite of winter’s winds at present. His flesh was heated… _the dragon_ , he thought until he felt his wife’s hand. If he was warm, she was the fire tonight… _the heat of a direwolf_.

Ghost followed at their heels again. The snow crunched beneath their boots, the guards on duty made no comment to their king and queen and the unusual hour they had chosen to rise and go to the deserted godswood. Once they had passed the walls into the wood, Ghost headed off in this own direction and the rest of the castle ceased to exist. They could’ve been alone in all the world it seemed. They reached the pool by the heart tree.

“Take off your clothes,” she said teasingly, just as she had over a year ago. “The water is warm and so is your wife, my king.”

He smiled and watched her first though, enjoying the sight of Sansa taking off her cloak, her dress, her shift and finally, her smallclothes. Naked before him and the old gods alone with her flesh pebbled from the cold though she did not seem to mind. He shucked off his own clothes and moved to her. He pulled her up against him and felt the warmth, the heat of her pressed against his flesh. He leaned in to kiss her, capturing her sweet mouth with his own, loving her with his lips and tongue and teeth.

“I have a request to honor, I believe,” she said breathlessly as his hardened length pressed into her belly.

He chuckled and said, “I don’t have to grovel then, my queen?”

“No. Get in the water.”

He moved into the hot water, adapting easily to the heat of it. Sansa climbed in behind him and began to wash him. He sat on a submerged stone near the edge and let her cleanse him with the warm water and massage his scalp. She ran her fingers through his beard.

“You need a haircut and your beard needs a trim,” she teased.

“Aye, that I do. Will you do that for me, wife?”

“Perhaps I will tomorrow.”

“It is nearly day.”

“Then we shouldn’t waste any more time. Float on your back now and grasp the ledge there. And keep your eyes closed…no peeking, Jon,” she said in a playful, warning tone.

Jon pulled his body up to float in the water. He reached back to grasp the stone that jutted out from the edge of the pool where he had sat, only his hands were completely above the water’s surface. His ears were awash and it was nearly silent. He closed his eyes. _No sight, no sound, no taste, no smells_ …

Everything faded…everything but her touch. His body floated in complete relaxation, nearly submerged but not completely. He felt her part his legs and move between them. She grasped his hips to help steady him and he tightened his grip on the stony ledge. He could hear the sound of her voice but could not make out the words. It was so peaceful here. His cock was under the warm water but he would almost swear he felt her breath on him right before she pulled him into her mouth. She sucked in his manhood, making him fully hard now until part of him rose above the surface while the rest stayed below. Her warm and hungry mouth allowed no chill to touch his flesh though. She worked slowly at first, teasing and tasting. Her mouth gliding up and down, her hands grasping his arse. He could feel her breasts pressed up against his thighs. Her tongue swirled around the head of his cock. He was moaning her name and babbling nonsensically but the sound was strange, altered with his ears under water.

Her hands grasped him tighter, her fingers moved inward…closer. Her mouth moved up and down faster now, she alternated between lashing him with her tongue at a fevered pace and sucking strongly to teasingly languid licks and kisses, pulling him closer to his peak. When he felt her finger enter him, gliding inside easily with the water, he squeezed his eyes closed tighter and bit his lip to keep from shouting. He wanted to stay here. He didn’t want to lose the sense of weightless and the feeling of nothingness… It wasn’t like when he had died though. This nothingness was peaceful. It was filling and pleasant. There was nothing but her mouth on him, her finger inside of him and the pleasure that was building quickly.

He did not want to come here like this though, not in her mouth the way he had the first and only time they had done this before in the water. _‘Another, my love,’_ she had said.

As his release neared, he let go of the ledge and stood up with a gasp, pulling her to him and turning her about swiftly. She nearly shouted in her surprise. He sat back down on the smooth stone he had sat upon as she washed him earlier and pulled her down to sit on his lap…on his cock. She looked over her shoulder at him before he lowered her down, filling her. He was already so close but he wanted her to reach it with him. He moved his hand around in front between her legs and circled her nub while his other hand clutched her tightly around the waist, rocking her up and down on his cock. As soon as she let out a moan, his fingers massaged her bud more intently. He could tell by the hitch in her breathing that she was already close. He would do this, he would bring her to her peak with him.

“Jon…” she moaned, “ohhhh…gods...”

“Yes, Sansa…now…fuuuck…”

They came together, their voices combining in a cry of ecstasy as a lone howl from nearby broke the pre-dawn silence. He could feel her cunt still fluttering tightly around him as he leaned his forehead against her back. Just as he let out a shuddering breath, there was an answering howl from further away.

 

They should perhaps have headed on back to the castle but Sansa said she wanted to see the dawn from the godswood. They stayed in the pool of course. The hot water kept them from growing chilled though their skin was wrinkling from the prolonged time in it. As the first rays of faint, wintry sunlight began to lighten the sky, they held each other in the water and made love once more.

“Welcome home,” she said.

“I’m so glad to be home, Sansa,” he said kissing her before they rose to dress in the chilly morning air.

Her skirts were clinging to her legs and his shirts was clinging to his back. Their hair was damp and their boots crunched in the snow again as they made their way back to the castle. The guards on duty and the people of the castle who were already up and about their business stared open-mouthed at their king and queen in their damp and disheveled state as they made their way through the courtyard. Jon smiled at the people and at his wife’s blush.

“Do you think there are any other direwolves around? Besides Ghost?” he asked. “The howl we heard…”

“It’s possible though it could’ve just been a regular wolf. I’m certain there are other Direwolves though. Perhaps in time, we’ll find another. It’s time I feed Arya.”

“I will fetch Ned and we will join you.”

“Our little pack,” she said as she smiled at him.

“Aye, our little pack.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed this addition to the series. Probably only about one more addition to this to wrap it up.


End file.
